1115 Old Jorvan

“They’re retreating!” Fairfield calls out as the rest of the crew is loading the cannon with lead shot, and medicus is tending the handful of wounded from the top deck.

1000 Local Time, Freedom Isle

The smoke from morning cookfires being dowsed leaves tendrils curling high into the sky. The Olic has found a line between them, hoping to go unnoticed. By Gardner’s recollection, the sheer cliff-face they are facing now is almost exactly opposite the main glowborn settlement. Vines cover the surface, hanging out into the Void; a sign the Wild continues to take hold. Vuyen swears an uncharacteristic oath, having never seen elven plants before, nor their aggressive nature.